Hunting for Answers
by ElvenBookwyrm
Summary: Question and Huntress, in the aftermath of Cadmus. By popular demand, new chapter!
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing

--

Question was asleep - finally. He was still having trouble breathing, but so far the oxygen mask was enough. Huntress sighed and rubbed her eyes. It wasn't her fault he was lying there, helpless, but she couldn't keep from blaming herself. Maybe if she'd kept him with her... maybe if she'd chased him... maybe, maybe, maybe. Of course, he thought he was going to commit a murder, but then, she'd gone to commit a murder before, even if she hadn't been able to go through with it. It didn't faze her, murder. Torture was another thing entirely.

The door hummed and opened, admitting Supergirl and Green Arrow. "We thought you might be hungry," Supergirl said. "You've been in here all day."

"He's been... having trouble breathing," Huntress said. "I couldn't leave him alone."

"We're not kicking you out," Green Arrow said. "We're just feeding you."

Huntress bit back the response that had been about to explode from her mouth, and took a breath. She _had_ been there all day, and she _was_hungry. "Thanks. 'Preciate it," she said, and took the tray from Supergirl, who exchanged a look with Green Arrow. Green Arrow leaned against the wall by the door while Supergirl took one of the empty chairs. "Gonna sit here and watch me eat?"

"We're... worried about you, Huntress. You haven't been taking care of yourself since you and Superman got Question back from Cadmus."

Supergirl jumped in, saying, "You haven't been eating, you haven't been sleeping..."

"They didn't feed Q; they didn't let him sleep..."

"Just because they hurt your guy-"

"Shut up," snarled Huntress. "You shut the hell up, Supergirl. They _hurt _him? They tortured him! They tortured him for a whole week before I even-" A sob cut her off before she could keep going.

"Nobody blames you, Huntress."

"Nobody but me," she muttered.

"Listen," said Green Arrow. "I get it. If if was my Pretty Bird lying there, I'd probably do the same thing. But it doesn't mean you should punish yourself for something you couldn't help."

"I could have stopped him."

"For how long?"

"I could have gone with him."

"You'd be in the same situation - if not worse. And think about it - if you had been in there with him, they would have strapped you into that machine and made him watch. He would have snapped in seconds. Question's strong, but he's not that strong."

Huntress looked away from the two of them and folded her arms. Her gaze fell on the Question. The bruises on his face were fading and turning yellow. The electrical burns were just as livid as they had been. His wheezing, laboured breaths were especially obvious in the silence after conversation. Would he really have caved so quickly to keep them from hurting her? She wasn't sure which answer frightened her more, and not just because no meant she would have been tortured half to death and yes meant Luthor would have won.

She picked up the plate and looked at the food they'd brought her. Corn, potatoes, and chicken. "I wasn't really hungry, anyway," she muttered, pushing it away.

"Huh?"

"Corn's genetically modified, so Q doesn't trust it. The potatoes we buy for here, he says, are being used to sponsor an underground Eugenics movement in Idaho. As for chicken, well, I'm just sick of chicken."

"You do listen," said the Question.

"Baby, you should be sleeping," Huntress said. "Did we wake you up?"

"Should sleep, too," he mumbled. "People who don't sleep enough are more susceptible to subliminal messaging. That's the reason behind video games."

"I won't leave you, Q. I just got you back."

"Then don't leave. Sleep here. Enough room."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You could never hurt me."

Huntress felt tears pricking at her eyes. He trusted her so much? So soon? She gingerly climbed into the hospital bed next to him, taking care to avoid as many of the burns as she could. He reached out a hand to her, shaking slightly with the effort, until she took it, and he could relax.

Supergirl was suddenly aware that this was the second intensely private moment she had witnessed between Huntress and the Question since he had been rescued from Cadmus. Green Arrow touched her shoulder and led her away, glancing back at the two of them. They had earned their rest.

--

Huntress woke up first. Somehow, after getting her proper sleep, the lights seemed less harsh. Her stomach growled. She wished they had some uninvited visitors at the moment - she could send them for food.

Question hadn't let go of her hand all night. She got up to check the machines. He was breathing easier - maybe he would be able to go without the oxygen mask when he woke up. Or maybe not, she thought, as he started to gasp and wheeze again. She should have known better than to tempt Murphy's Law.

"No, don't," said Question. "She doesn't know... Don't... Get off her..."

"Q?" said Huntress. "Q, wake up. You're dreaming."

"No!" He was still trapped in the nightmare. "Don't! I'll tell you anything!"

She grabbed his hands. "Q, baby, I'm here! You're safe!"

"Ngh!" said the Question as he woke up with a jolt. "Huntress?"

"It's me, Q. What happened?"

"I was back in C-Cadmus, except... they had you, too."

She scowled. "I am going to _kill_ Green Arrow for making you think about that."

"They were... What they did to you-"

Huntress' expression softened. "Nobody touched me, Q. I'm fine, now that I've got you back. We're all safe now."

The door hummed and admitted a doctor, who looked worried. "The heart monitor went haywire a moment ago."

"It was a nightmare," said Huntress. "But I was here."

"Alright," said the doctor. "I'm glad. Question, are you still feeling nauseous, or do you think you'll be able to eat something today?"

At the mention of food, Huntress' stomach growled. She grinned sheepishly. "I guess I can go get it. You want eggs? Pancakes?"

"Soup," interrupted the doctor. "Or a little porridge. Nothing too rich or heavy, and stop if you feel sick."

Huntress nodded, and turned to go to the cafeteria. She stopped when the Question called her name. "Don't be long," he said.

"I'll be so fast, Flash will be jealous," she told him.

--

Huntress was intending to ignore any and all heroes she saw on her way to and from the cafeteria, but when she got stuck in line behind Green Arrow, she couldn't resist. She punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" he said. "What was that for?"

"Q had a nightmare this morning about me being in Cadmus," she said. "Guess who gave him that idea."

"Geez," he said. "I'm sorry. Is he alright?"

"He's... I don't know. He's hungry, kind of. Doc said soup or porridge only. At least he's breathing better."

There was silence for a minute or two. "I don't suppose there's anything I can do."

"Actually," said Huntress, slopping some scrambled eggs onto her plate with more force than was strictly necessary. "You could get Supergirl's friends to stop talking smack about Q." She snatched up her tray and marched out of the cafeteria, calling over her shoulder, "He was frigging tortured, and he didn't give them anything about us - they could have _some_ respect."

Green Arrow frowned at the table where all the younger women, minus Supergirl herself, were sitting and looking guiltily back. This, he thought, he could do.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing.

----

The Watchtower medical facilities were full to capacity immediately after the battle with the Ultimen clones. Everyone was injured - there was no one with less than a scrape, and most of them needed overnight observation for a clean bill of health. As a result, the staff felt it prudent to move their two most critically injured inpatients into the same room, so that any medical staff on call could more easily keep an eye on them. As far as Huntress was concerned, it was the stupidest idea ever. The two most injured inpatients were the Question, who was currently recuperating from a week of brutal torture in a Cadmus facility, and Captain Atom, who had been beaten down by Superman because he was interfering in the Question's rescue.

Captain Atom was getting used to Huntress' glares, but he still squirmed whenever Question looked directly at him. Even though mostly everyone on the Watchtower knew what Question looked like - or at least the basics, meaning that he actually _did _have a face, and that his hair was actually red - he had put the mask back on as soon as he was told he didn't need the oxygen mask anymore. Because of this, Captain Atom had _no idea_ what the Question thought of him. Sure, he'd blasted some of the Ultimen clones away from him and Huntress during the attack, but before that... he'd stood by and done nothing for a week, while Cadmus personnel tortured Question, and then stood in the way when Huntress and Superman had come to bring him home. He had only been following orders...

_I vos chust followink orders, Herr Cheneral,_ muttered a treacherous thought in the back of his head.

"Well, I was," he muttered back.

"Talking to yourself, Captain?" said the Question, quietly, so as to not wake his girlfriend. "It's a sign of insanity, they say."

Had he just made a joke? Did he used to make jokes before Cadmus? Captain Atom decided to forego the obvious response, considering. "Couldn't sleep, either?"

"I'm choosing not to, for the moment." _Why?_ Captain Atom wondered. _Was it because of nightmares? _The guilt flared up again. "Thank you, by the way, for blasting those Ultimen for us. Huntress couldn't get them, and I was little help."

"You knocked one of them out with a bedpan."

"Yes," allowed Question. "Due to an adrenaline rush. And then I collapsed a moment later. Which is why I said 'little help' instead of 'no help'."

"He bugging you, Q?" asked Huntress, groggily. "I can shoot him for you."

"Not at all," said Question.

"Can I shoot him anyway?"

"It's probably better if you don't. Sweet dreams, Huntress." He waited a minute. "She'll probably never forgive you, you know."

Another moment, and then Captain Atom said, "I know."

"I probably will, though," said Question, musingly. "After all, you were always a soldier - used to following orders. It didn't really occur to you to... question them."

"I did question them, though," said Captain Atom. "After I-"

"After you found out the methods of interrogation, yes, I know. And again, after you learned that it was a Justice Leaguer, one of your former teammates, who was being interrogated. I may have been only half-conscious when you got into an argument with your superiors in front of me, but I was still there. I was also there when you agreed to submit to their lies: that their techniques were necessary; that I was a traitor. Incidentally, they were telling the truth about me, in that I... appropriated... several classified files, but consider how close to Armageddon we came."

"Are you telling me you think the end justifies the means?"

"In this case? Yes, although there are some means that are never justified. Do try to keep that in mind if you ever decide to betray us again." Question sighed and let his head rest on his pillow. "But this is heavy talk for a time when we should be sleeping."

"I thought you were choosing not to sleep."

"I was. I've said all that I needed to say tonight."

Question fell asleep not long after that, and Captain Atom was left alone to deal with his demons and listen to them whisper, _traitor, traitor._

----

He hadn't been able to catch a wink of sleep by the time Huntress woke up. "Good morning," he said.

"I suppose it is, somewhere," she replied. "Has anybody been in to visit?"

"No," he replied, surprised. "Were you expecting-"

The door hummed and admitted the Green Lantern. "Hey," he said to Huntress. "Is he awake yet?"

"Not yet. I think _he_," Huntress said, nodding towards Captain Atom, "kept him up late, talking."

"He actually chose to stay up later," said Captain Atom. "He had something to say to me."

"Would you please inform Captain Atom that I am ignoring everything he has to say except in situations of dire necessity?" Huntress said stiffly.

"Duly noted," John said. "I came here to let you know that his room is ready - we sanitized it and installed a call button and everything. All it needs is for the Question to give it his seal of approval."

"John," said Huntress. "I... appreciate what you're doing for him. You and all the League. But I have to know... I'm not really welcome here..."

"As long as Question needs you, we're keeping you, Huntress. After that, as long as somebody invites you, nobody will kick you off the station. We owe him at least that much."

"Thanks," said Huntress quietly.

"And Captain?" said John. "Shayera would like to speak with you in private, as soon as possible."

As soon as possible turned out to be later that day (relatively speaking, as they were on a space station). Shayera Hol sat down on the bed recently vacated by the Question and waited for the doctor to leave. As soon as she did, Shayera said, "Welcome to the club, captain."

"What club?"

"The traitor's club. You betrayed the Justice League by keeping it a secret from us that the government of the United States had taken Question into custody, and what they were doing to him." Shayera's expression gave nothing away. "You then betrayed the government and the military by fighting on our side during the attack by the Ultimen and Galatea. Do you deny it?"

Captain Atom wearily said, "No."

"No," Shayera said. Just as wearily, she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Has no one learned anything from my life?" Captain Atom looked at her curiously. "You and I did nearly the same thing, captain. We both joined the Justice League; we both built a family here; we both destroyed any foundation of trust we had hoped of establishing without a second thought because of orders from our governments. Did it not occur to you to let us know that you had received orders - that they had reactivated your commission?" She didn't wait for an answer, but went on. "And you know - you must know - that even if you are forgiven, your act of treachery will never be forgotten. People will always be second guessing you - wondering why you did it - wondering if you'll do it again. Why on earth would you do that to yourself?"

"Orders," he said.

"Orders," she said. "Of course. Let me tell you something about orders, captain. They are far less forgiving than the people who wrote them. If I had stopped to question my orders... Look. J'onn tells me you've got a chance at forgiveness."

"From Question, not Huntress. Or anybody else."

"It doesn't matter. My advice is to go for it. You've got nothing left to lose." She turned and started walking out. "The doctor says you should be fine in a couple of days," she said. "Oh, and if Fate offers you use of his tower, make sure you don't agree to chess with Aquaman. He's a sore winner _and_ a sore loser."

----

Question watched Huntress' eyes narrow as the door hummed to admit another resident of the Watchtower into the cafeteria. "Captain Atom, right? Stop glaring at him," he told her. "I might get jealous, all that attention you're giving him."

"Yeah, well, somebody's got to watch your back, Q," she told him. "You're no good at it."

"Technically," he mused, "it was my face that needed watching-"

"Hey," she said, looking straight at him. "Don't joke right now, okay? It's only been a few days since I got you back."

"I understand," he said. "You're in a fragile state."

"Dang straight," she said. "And I'll break anyone who says otherwise." She and Question shared a smile, his all but hidden to her by his mask.

"You're sweet," Huntress said. "But you know you haven't made me forget he's here. I don't get it."

"What?"

"Why you don't want him dead and gone, where he can never do that to anyone again."

He didn't remind her that it was that kind of thinking that had gotten her kicked off the Watchtower the first time. He also refrained from telling her that forgiveness was never her strong suit. He said instead, "It's useful when people owe you."

"Well I understand that," she said. "But are you sure you don't want me to shoot him, even a little?"

"Despite being curious as to how you could shoot someone 'a little', no. I believe we have more interesting things planned for the day, don't we?"

"What's this? Q's taking charge?"

"Oh, absolutely. With something as important as the conspiracy board..."

"That had better be innuendo," Huntress said.

Question hesitated. "It can be," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing.

----

It had been nearly a month since the events at Cadmus. Specifically, twenty-eight days since Question had been rescued, and twenty-seven since Galatea had been defeated. The League had been busy since then - building and then moving into several land-based Watchtower facilities, not to mention regular patrols and responding to emergencies. He was off active duty, officially, but he went right on doing exactly what he'd always done - gathering data, in part to help the League, in part to understand the conspiracy.

He walked through the hallway in the new Star City building, reading a file, ignoring everything else until something caught his attention. They were putting the Monitor Room together, and a wire had come loose, and the electricity...

_...was painful, but not as painful as what they were making him see. Every dystopic, apocalyptic future he'd ever imagined, in full surround-sound detail. Over and over again. The centerpiece, of course, was the future that had gotten him here. "If I were you, Mr. Question," said Dr. Moon, "I'd give up soon. We've never tested the results of this machine on the human brain after twenty-four hours of continuous use, but I can assure you - it won't be pretty." He paused for a moment, but aside from ragged, heavy breathing, Question maintained his silence. "Very well, then, Mr. Question. If you insist." The pain and the visions returned._

_"That's enough, Dr. Moon," said Amanda Waller. "Let me have a go." Dr. Moon did as she asked, and turned the dial down to minimum. She paused for dramatic effect. "I'm sorry you decided to cross us, Question. You're good at what you do, I'll give you that - but you have a problem with being too nosy. Still, we can be merciful - if the situation allows it. If we were less merciful, we would have killed you as soon as we had gotten you into our custody." She paused again, long enough for Question to think, liar. You need to know what I know. You need to know who else knows. "Even if you'll just tell us what you learned from the data you stole, we can get you in the regular prison system. I'm sure you'd be out in fifteen or twenty years. __But we are willing to offer complete amnesty for your crimes, if you are willing to work for us from now on. What do you say?"_

_Slowly and deliberately, Question lifted his head to look straight in her eyes. "If I had a mouth," he told her, "I'd spit in your eye."_

_Her smile, manufactured as it had been, gave way to a very real frown. "I see." She turned her back on him. "Take the night off, Dr. Moon. I think we'll hand our guest over to Task Force X for a few hours, see what they can get from him." She pulled out her cell phone as she left. "How goes the search for the Huntress?" she said, walking out of earshot._

_Dr. Moon grinned. "Are you looking forwards to meeting your new playmates, Mr. Question?"_

"Question?"

"Somebody call a doctor!"

"Somebody get Huntress!"

----

"How long has he been like this?" Batman asked, watching the man with no face twitch and moan, in obvious pain despite the drugs.

"Hours," J'onn said. "He's reliving what he went through in the Cadmus facility. I don't know why, but I can't break him out of it."

"Superman said he was with Dr. Moon when they found him," Batman said. "He may have implanted some sort of post-hypnotic suggestion. Then again, it could just be a manifestation of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." He watched in silence for a moment. "Why do you have him restrained?"

"He attacked the orderlies," J'onn told him. "He doesn't know who anyone is. Now that he's been given sedatives, I don't think he'll be so violent, but it's better to be safe-"

"Get out of my way!" shouted Huntress, wantonly pushing people aside as she ran towards the infirmary. "Q!"

"Huntress, you should not go in there," J'onn said. "It's dangerous!"

She leveled her crossbow at his head. "Which do you think is more likely to end in somebody dying, Martian? Keeping me out or letting me in?"

He let her in.

She chased everybody out of the room, darkened the window, and locked the door. Then she took off his mask. He was grimacing, and his eyes were open, but he didn't seem to be seeing anything. Every once in a while he'd flinch, as though somebody had hit him. "Oh, Vic," she murmured, stroking his face. "What did they do to you?"

_Question coughed. That last punch had just about done it for him. He could taste blood. "Not so tough now, are you?" said Deadshot. "'Course, you never really were. Just nosy. Isn't that right?" He wound his arm back for yet another blow, and Question thought, this is it. I'm sorry, Helena._

_"Stop," said the little man in the corner. The Clock King was staring intently at his pocket watch. "Your hour is up."_

_"Oh, come on," Deadshot said. "It's not like we're on a job."_

_"Those were the terms you agreed to. It's Colonel Flagg's turn."_

_"You heard the man, Convict," Rick Flagg said. "My turn."_

_Scowling, Deadshot dropped Question roughly on the ground. "Fine. He's boring anyway."_

"I could tell you, but it isn't pleasant," said J'onn, behind her.

"You know, just because you can walk through walls and intrude on people's private moments doesn't mean you should."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought you might want someone with you in case he gets violent again, but if you'd rather I left-"

"Wait," she said. "You can go in people's heads, right?"

"I can," he said. "But the last time I attempted to help Question that way, I couldn't get his attention."

"Try taking me with you," she said. "He doesn't ignore me."

"It's not that simple," J'onn said. "Besides, last time we talked he asked me never to let you see what he went through."

"What, to protect me?" she said. The very thought was an affront.

"Not exactly," J'onn said. "Except from legal repercussions."

_"For the last time, Question," said Flagg. "What information did you take?"_

_Question stayed silent._

_"Look. You've been here for over thirty six hours and you haven't broken. I respect that. I respect that you want to protect your friends. But it's stupid. Sooner or later you'll break, and then you'll die. It doesn't have to be that way. We can get you amnesty. Just give us something."_

_"There's... one thing," Question rasped. Everyone quieted to hear what the man with no face had to say. "Sooner or later... Huntress will find out... what you did to me. When that happens... may God have mercy... on your souls."_

That was more like it, Huntress thought. Annoying, but it made sense. She _would_ kill those responsible, eventually, if they were going to escape justice, if she knew who they were. "So what am I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait for this to work itself out? It was bad enough after the first time around, and I wasn't there."

"I understand that it's difficult," J'onn said.

No you don't, she thought, but then remembered that J'onn was a telepath.

"If it's any comfort, he seems to be going through it more quickly this time. It's been six hours for us and he's already on the second day."

Her fists clenched involuntarily. "It's not us I'm worried about, J'onn. You weren't there when we got him out. He barely made it the first time. He... he gave up. He thought he was going to die there. He never gave them anything, but..."

J'onn placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He'll be alright."

She knew quite well that he couldn't be sure of that. The only way to be sure, of course, was to wait and see. She turned away from him and looked at Question. Question was shuddering again, reliving some horror or another; Huntress took off the restraints from his arms, took his hands in hers, and waited.

She'd always hated waiting.

----

_"Tell me what you know."_

_"Walt Disney, Amelia Earhart and Elvis Presley are not dead; they were abducted and cryogenically frozen for future study."_

_"Tell me what you know."_

_"A key ingredient in the Smilex toxin can be found in nearly every brand of chocolate pudding cups."_

_"You know that your resistance is futile, Mr. Question. Nobody knows you're here. Nobody is coming for you. Why do you resist?"_

_Despite the pain - despite the fact that the machine was still on, so Dr. Moon obviously didn't really want an answer - Question ground out, "Because... it's... right!"_

_Dr. Moon turned the dial up even further, and Question blacked out momentarily._

_(During that moment, a large amount of information played through his head, very quickly. Now that he subconsciously knew he was out of danger, in a safe place, he took the time to sort it out. The conclusions he came to were surprising. He passed them all on to the Martian, who he knew was listening in - all except for one, which was his own.)_

_He came back to the sound of the door bursting open. There was some commotion, then more pain, so he mumbled something about the secret messages encoded in the amino acids in carb-free breakfast bars. Then he heard a voice he'd never expected to hear again. He blearily opened his eyes to see..._

...Helena, who was holding his hand as if her life depended on it. Her mask was on, but he could still see the dark circles under her eyes. How long had it been since she slept?

"Vic?" she half-whispered, as though he were something fragile and infinitely precious.

"I'm here," he said, or tried to. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and tasted like something had died in it. "Can I have some water?" he tried again, with somewhat more success.

Someone he hadn't noticed brought him a Dixie cup full of water. "Drink it slowly," he said, and Question did so.

"Thank you," he said. He turned back to Helena. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to miss our date."

"Considering you just spent three days in a coma, I'll forgive you this time. What happened?"

"There was a loose wire. It reminded me of the machine..."

"Don't go back there again."

"I won't." He rubbed his eyes. "You took off my mask."

She nodded. "Are you mad?"

"No." He felt weak - not as weak as after the first time he'd gone through that ordeal, but still less than healthy. He supposed a few days of bed rest would take care of it. "Helena?"

"I'm here."

"Do you have to go anywhere?"

"Not tonight. Not until you're better. I said it was a family emergency."

He wondered how many of the people at her school would have thought of her Italian family when she told him that, despite the fact that she was the last surviving Bertinelli, and had no real ties to her cousins and their business. "Did you sleep at all, while I was..."

"No. I couldn't." She suddenly scowled. "I should slap you, scaring me like that."

"I didn't mean to," he said. "Anyway, you're exhausted. So am I. We should sleep."

"You're not the boss," she told him, climbing into bed beside him.

"I know," he said. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Helena?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

She smiled. "Love you too."


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing.

----

The morning dawned bright and clear in Star City. Being from Gotham and Hub City, respectively, it was a peculiar and somewhat unnerving sight to Huntress and the Question. And for Huntress, considering that she'd just spent three days awake, watching Question relive his week of torture, it was annoying. "Who invented mornings, anyway?" she mumbled, head buried under the hospital sheets.

"Most people claim it was God," said Question. He got up, put on his mask, and then looked at the charts at the end of the bed.

"That was rhetorical, Question," she told him.

"My iron count is low. Did you realize that we slept through yesterday?"

"Seriously? Maybe that's why I have to pee so bad," Huntress said, getting up to check for herself.

"I suppose it is." He studied the chart a bit longer, closed it, and pulled the IV out of his arm. "Don't need that anymore."

Something started beeping shrilly and a doctor ran in, quickly followed by the hero on duty, Black Canary. Upon seeing the situation, the doctor, who had treated Question before, rolled his eyes and said, "Is it that hard to wait until your attending nurse gets here?"

"You would be concerned about me if I did. Besides, the nanites-"

"We check for any extraneous technology, Question."

"Yes, but they're very crafty."

"Where's Huntress?" Black Canary said. The toilet flushed and she heard the tap running. "Never mind."

"We got visitors?" Huntress asked, putting on her mask. Seeing Black Canary, she scowled. "Oh. It's the airhead."

"Be nice, dear," said Question. "He made it through medical school, so he must have some smarts, whether or not he'll listen to what I know."

"Okay, first off, don't call me dear. Second, you know I was talking about Blondie."

"To be fair, you should really be mad at her boyfriend," the doctor said. "Star City is his city, after all. Where is he, anyway?"

"Had some sort of a function," Black Canary said.

"Is the Martian still here?" Question asked.

"He left a few minutes before you woke up from your coma," said the doctor. "In a hurry. I don't know where he is now."

"Good," said the Question. "Juice was stuck there long enough."

"Juice?" said Huntress. "Baby, are you saying the Ultimen are still alive?"

"No. Even Juice isn't alive anymore, in the strictest sense. The others just died, like we saw with Longshadow. With Juice, though, his physical form degenerated, but he somehow converted himself into sentient electricity. He's been trapped in the Cadmus power grid ever since." Question rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "As much as I wish that my... incident in Cadmus had never happened, it may have been for the best. Otherwise, we may never have known about the other clones."

----

Black Canary wandered down the hall, somewhat in a daze. Her thoughts were whirling around in her head, too fast for any of them to reach completion. They had... She hadn't... When did... Why?

"Dinah?" Startled, she spun around; it was only Green Arrow. "Dinah, what's going on? I've been trying to get in touch with you for an hour." He looked at her more closely. "Are you alright?"

_I'm fine_, she wanted to say, but she couldn't make herself say the words. She shook her head no and said, "Question woke up today."

"That's good, right?" said Green Arrow.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess. But what he saw..." She shuddered and took a steadying breath. "Cadmus wasn't just playing with Supergirl's DNA. The Ultimen weren't the only products of their games. They made other clones... or, partial clones, I guess."

"Question said that? Dinah, you know the guy can be-"

"I know. But J'onn confirmed it. An hour or two ago he came back from a visit to Cadmus. He brought back what was left of Juice, and two other partial clones, and... files. Hundreds of files. Ollie, any of us who have ever been in, had our lives saved in S.T.A.R. Labs, and even some of us who didn't... they made... kids. Babies. Most of them weren't what they wanted, so they..." She took a shuddering breath and told him. "They killed them."

Green Arrow held her close and held her tight. He breathed a curse. "And I thought what they did to Kara and Question was bad enough. Pretty much all of them used S.T.A.R. Labs. Thank God we never did."

Black Canary gave a weak chuckle. "They did us wrong, too, Ollie. Somehow, they got their hands on our DNA. They... they mixed our DNA. They made a little baby girl."

"Are you saying... we have a daughter?"

She shook her head. Voice breaking, she said, "Had. She didn't have my powers... but I didn't know I had them either, when I was a baby." She shuddered again and said, "She never even had a name."

----

"Is this really necessary?" Question asked. He was back in his blue suit, overcoat and fedora, but Huntress had insisted on pushing him out in a wheelchair. "I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Yeah, yeah," Huntress said. "Save it. Last time you said you were okay and I let you get away with it, you ended up in a three-day coma. Besides, think of all the fun we could have with that chair."

"I hardly think wheelchair races are our kind of fun."

"Who said anything about races?"

"Wait!" The doctor who had been on call when they had woken up ran down the hallway to catch up. "Hold up!"

"Is there a problem, doctor?" said Question.

"No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure you got these," he said. "I'm sure as heck not going back to the Hub - or Gotham, for that matter, if that's where you're living these days - and I know you probably don't trust the postal system, even if I knew where to send it."

"Actually, the postal system's fine, but as you said, you wouldn't know where to send it. Thank you."

"What is it?" Huntress asked, looking curiously at the brown manila envelope.

"Files on the two clones," Question said. "I could have hacked the database, but why waste effort when you don't need to?" She let the matter drop, not noticing how he surreptitiously rubbed the corner of the envelope. That doctor was certainly one of the smartest people he'd ever saved. He smiled under his mask. He had slipped in the word 'postal' without making Helena even the least bit suspicious.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing.

----

"So... you're my son," Superman said, looking at the young teenager sitting in front of him.

The dark-haired boy lounged on the couch with that curious mix of cockiness and unease most often seen on boys meeting their girlfriends' fathers. With this boy, though, there was an added undertone of aggression and a tendency to automatically scan the room for defensible positions that went beyond what your typical truant might exhibit. "I guess," said the boy. "That's what the blood-tests say, anyhow."

They both waited uneasily in the awkward silence for a moment. "I... um... do you... do you have a name?"

"Yeah. Kon-El." He scratched the back of his neck. "They, um, they wanted to give me an 'idea of my Kryptonian Heritage', or whatever."

"That's, um..."

"Yeah, cheesy, right?"

"Oh, no," said Superman, trying to sound sincere. "Not at all."

"Sure," said Kon-El with a chuckle. The silence was more comfortable this time but they could practically feel the awkwardness around the edges. "So, uh, what are you going to say to that Lois chick about me?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, come on. Everybody knows you two have a thing - it's probably why she gets kidnapped so often, right?"

"I didn't know it was so obvious."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, Jerry..." Kon-El trailed off. Superman got the sense that Jerry was one of the other Cadmus creations, one that had been deemed a failure.

"Well, I don't think Lois needs to know that you're my son right away," he said.

"You're right, yeah. She'd probably think you were cheating on her or something."

"Or something. How about we set up another identity for you, and I introduce you as my cousin?"

"Sounds cool, I guess."

There was another comfortable pause. "Do you know who the other donor is?"

"No, they only ever told me about you. Why?"

"No real reason. It's just that your file only listed an 'anonymous human donor.' I - Flash was curious."

"Yeah? Now that you tell me you don't even know, I'm inclined to agree."

----

"So, all along, Rex was a test-tube baby," said Shayera, looking closely at the solemn infant in her arms. "A genetically engineered clone of you and me, rather than our actual kid."

"He is our child, Shayera. He's made from you and me."

"Well, I didn't mean that like it sounded, John. I just meant... well, the pressure's off, now. You can go back to Mari and I can see where things are going to go with Carter and, well... we don't have to worry about fate anymore, do we?"

Rex started to fuss, and John took him back from Shayera. "I guess I see what you mean. It's..."

"Strange?"

"Strange is a good word for it. I think... I think I might be in love with Mari, or falling in love with her. At the same time, I want to be his father and... if you want to be, I'd like you to be his mother." He rubbed Rex's back, and the baby calmed down. "Being purely practical, he's half-Thanagarian, and needs to know what that means. In the future, I saw him with wings."

Rex had no wings now, anybody could see that. He could use them, though, if he had them. He had the same lightweight bone structure as any other Thanagarian of his age, and his siblings and half-siblings that Cadmus had deemed failures and killed had developed the right muscle groups. "Of course I'll teach him, John. But Wally would do the same for any speedster who needed his help, and J'onn would do the same for any telepath or shape shifter."

"I know," said John. "I also don't want him to know what it's like growing up without parents. Wally turned out fine, but Bruce didn't."

It didn't sit right with her, the thought of sweet little Rex turning out so very... Bruce. Still... "It could very well have been Gotham that did that to Bruce, and not just the loss of his parents. Rex will probably be fine. And he'll have you."

"I know," John said again. "I guess I understand. You never asked for this, you never expected this. It's just... are you sure you don't want to be part of his life?"

Rex yawned and then looked at Shayera in surprise. His wide green eyes - oh, there was no fighting it now. Her son's eyes were so much like hers. And even at just a few months old, he was so curious, so intelligent. She wordlessly held her arms out to John, who gave Rex - their son - to her. She was so scared of what this meant, this tiny little being, now sleeping on her shoulder. There was so much risk involved in being a mother, and that was even in a traditional relationship. She and John had too much pain in their shared past to go back to the way they were. And being a superhero just added to the risk. But for the opportunity to see her son grow up into the man John had told her he would be... She took a deep breath, and took a chance.

----

"Wow," said Helena.

Vic's apartment had undergone a transformation during the day, while she'd been at work. The papers were filed away; the Conspiracy Board was nowhere to be seen. Vic had either bought a new table or just covered up the old one in a new tablecloth - she supposed she'd know, if it wobbled. There were two places set, and it looked like a bottle of good red wine on the table.

"This is beautiful, Vic," she said. "How... how did you manage..."

"I won't lie - it's a hard-light hologram. The same technology we use in the training room. I had it installed in my house months ago, so I could have backup in case... in case there were repercussions." He turned away, partly so she couldn't see his sudden panic at the thought, and partly to take the covers off the two plates on the table. "The food, however, I made myself."

She sat down, but then looked at him suspiciously. "You made the wine?"

"I bought the wine."

They started to eat. Helena had had no idea Vic could cook so well, and said so. Vic admitted that it was his second try, and that the stock boy at the grocery store had laughed at him when he'd panicked in the pasta aisle.

"I feel underdressed," Helena said. "If you'd told me, I would've freshened up before I got here."

"You look beautiful. You always look beautiful," said Vic. "Besides, I wanted to surprise you. People in our line of work get few enough pleasant surprises. Everyone deserves a pleasant surprise every now and then."

"What I'm going to do to you isn't much of a surprise," said Helena. "But I'm pretty sure it'll be more than pleasant."

"I hope what I'm about to say doesn't change your mind," said Vic.

"What, Vic?"

"Helena... You've seen me at my best, and at my worst, and everything in between. It's getting to the point where I can't hide anything from you, and... I find I don't want to. I love you, a lot. And I want to make sure I..." He laughed a little, nervously. "This is a lot more difficult than I had expected. What I'm trying to say is..." He got down on one knee. "Helena Bertinelli, will you marry me?"


	6. Chapter 6

_By popular demand, I present the answer to Q's question, and the aftermath thereof._

I own nothing.

----

They were married two and a half times in a month. It was necessary, Victor said, to throw the Cabal off of his trail – Helena thought it was a little overcomplicated, but who was she to argue with the Master of Conspiracy when it came to this kind of stuff?

The first time, they took Bruce's boat out into international waters with Helena's godfather, her priest, and Bruce – two witnesses and a captain to marry them. She outlined to her godfather and her priest what they would be doing and an edited version of why. They explained that he was in hiding, but implied that he was part of the witness protection program, not that there was an international power consortium after him. They told her godfather and priest that they had met at work, although he worked in a different field. Her priest knew which kind of work she meant; her godfather assumed they'd met at her school. They agreed, reluctantly, to go along with the plan.

The second time, they were married in costume. It wasn't a traditional wedding by any stretch of the imagination. The groom had no face, for one thing, and the bride wore a purple gown with a rectangular cutout over her belly – clearly a variation on her crimefighting uniform. Green Arrow was the best man, Batgirl the maid of honour, and J'onn J'onzz gave the bride away, temporarily making himself look like her long-dead father. As for the ring bearer, well, it was Rex, obviously. What other boys did they know and trust? Supergirl agreed to be the flower girl, with surprisingly little fuss. Flash, of course, was in charge of the food. Telling Flash about the wedding may have been a bit of a mistake, as his entire Rogues Gallery (aside from Grodd) showed up in costume to crash the reception. As they were just there for the free cake, they let it slide after the obligatory battle.

The third time was aborted half way through. It was a public ceremony, with all of the pomp and circumstance and relatives one would expect in a mob princess' wedding, even an orphaned one. This time, her godfather gave her away with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. The wedding appeared to be going smoothly until the priest asked if anyone knew of any reason why they should not be legally wed. That was when the man stood up and pulled out a gun amd said, "Szasz."

Victor visibly paled. "They found me," he said, his voice raspy with fear. Helena pushed him to the ground and the bullet barely missed them both.

Several of Helena's relatives had pulled out guns in the chaos following the shot. Only a few of them heard the priest tell the bride and groom, "This way."

By the time Helena's family had forced the gunman out of the church (with no fatalities among the guests, fortunately,) someone had called the cops. It could have ended worse if Helena hadn't taught the police sargeant's daughter in grade three; the cops turned a blind eye on the weapons, aside from the antagonist. They wrestled him to the ground and cuffed him as Helena and Victor drove off at a breakneck speed from the chuch parking lot. "You can't run forever, Szasz!" the gunman shouted at the quickly disappearing vehicle. "You think I was the only one they sent?"

Just seconds after the car raced around the corner, the assembled cops and wedding guests heard a sound like a gunshot and metal tearing in half, and an unmarked, driverless eighteen-wheeler raced through the intersection – tin cans and the remains of a white car twisted across the hood. The gunman stopped shouting and gave a satisfied grunt, and refused to say another word. The guests were startled out of their shock when Helena's godfather collapsed.

The corpses of the bride and groom were too mangled for traditional identification, or for an open-casket funeral. The weather decided to get in on the anti-traditionalist mood, and the rain stayed away from Gotham. Roughly fifty percent of the mourners were armed, up from the thirty percent at the wedding. Her godfather sat at the front, still wheelchair-bound after his collapse. After the old man's son's _vehement_ protest at the media's incursion on his father's hospital room, few reporters and only two photographers dared to make an appearance. Most of the armed mourners were keeping one eye out for the gunman from the wedding, who had disapeared from police custody. A few, though, were watching for the people who had sprung him. One of them, a young man just out of high school, thought back to the visit he'd recieved.

He'd liked Helena. His cousin, the schoolteacher, didn't involve herself much with the family, and even less with the family business, but she had always treated him as an adult. She had encouraged his love of writing, encouraged his dreams of following in the footsteps of his favourite authours. He held an unopened bottle of champagne in one hand and his acceptance letter from Oxford in the other, and wondered what to do.

"Are you Paulie Spiro?" said a male voice from the shadows. The Bat? But he hadn't done anything! No... not the Bat. It was a dark-haired man in a fedora and a blue suit. His face was... was not there. Who was this guy?

"Who's asking?" said Paulie, guardedly.

"That would be the Question," said the man with no face.

"Stop toying with the poor kid, Q," said another voice in the shadows to Paulie's left. When the voice's owner sauntered into view, Paulie wished he'd brought his gun. The Huntress. She could - and would - kill a man for being involved with the mob, according to his father. But instead of pulling her lethal crossbow on him, Huntress just walked over to the guy, Q. "Question here wanted to make sure the people who killed Vic and Helena weren't going after her family too. Well, we've seen it. Let's go, Q."

Question didn't move. "Huntress," he said. "Helena's cousin got into Oxford."

"I should care why?"

"It was her dream and... he was her friend."

Huntress' expression softened. "I know, Baby. Look, you go make sure those people aren't spying on them and I'll talk to Paulie here. I won't even shoot him." Question nodded, and vanished. Being from Gotham, and having heard the stories about the Bat, Paulie wasn't so surprised.

"Look," said Huntress. "You and your people don't like what I do. That's fine. I don't like what you and your people do, either. Good people wind up dead because of Mafia scum. But the people who got Victor and Helena dead? They're worse. I can't keep Q safe from them and go after all the Families, so... I'm calling a truce. With this one Family, at least. Besides, maybe I can convince some of you boys to help us hunt them down. You Mafia types like revenge, right?"

"You should care why?" said Paulie, echoing Huntress' words from earlier.

Huntress didn't seem offended. "It wasn't for Q, I wouldn't. But..." she trailed off, then started again. "But Q doesn't have a lot of friends, so each one is important to him. Victor was his oldest friend, you know? Vic was there the first time Q hacked the Pentagon, apparently, and according to Q that's a big deal. When Q found out Vic and Helena were getting married, he was so happy. He thought Victor could maybe live a happy life with the girl he was in love with, like normal people get, you know? He had so many plans for sending them off safe on their new life together. He didn't count on the gunman and the truck." She took a moment, and Paulie might have been imagining it, but he thought she was crying. "I don't know why I'm telling you this stuff. The point is, Q wants to help you guys keep safe from those freaks that killed Vic and Helena, and I'm going to help him by not killing you myself." She stood, then paused. "Helena wasn't bad. We got to know each other pretty well while she was planning the wedding, you know. She really wanted you to go to Oxford?" Paulie nodded. "Maybe you should go. Last wishes of the dead, right?"

"Maybe," said Paulie, looking again at the paper. "Do you–" But by then, she was gone.

Now Helena and Victor were in the ground. As far as the Question knew (which was pretty darn far) they were all as safe as they had been before Vic and Helena had ever met. Safer, actually, because now there wasn't the risk of the Huntress killing them. A few of the things she'd said still bothered him, though. The biggest issue was the group that had arranged the murder of the two lovers, of course. Who were they? Huntress had only ever referred to them as 'they', and Question hadn't been any more fortcoming. What had the Question done to anger them? By all accounts, Question was not a "hands-on" type of hero, although there was that rumour about Lex Luthor and the US government. Did 'they' have any limits at all? How much could he do to help Question before this mysterious 'they' turned their ire on him? And, aside from the call for blood to pay for blood, why was he looking for a way to help the vigilante at all?

He hadn't seen Huntress again since that night, but Question had been in touch. Some of the things he said were really off the wall, like the thing about the 32nd flavour, but anything that he'd been able to fact check, he had – and everything he'd been able to fact check, Question had been right about. Question had given him a list of Helena's friends and family that he'd also gotten into contact with, and their stories came back mostly the same. However unbalanced this Question guy was, he was on the level. And there was no faking the look in Huntress' face when she talked about him, so she was on the level, too.

Life would be different when he came back from Oxford. Paulie was sure of it.

From the Watchtower, Question and Huntress watched their own funeral via spy satellite. "Paulie looks like he's thinking a lot," said Huntress. "What did you say to him?"

"No more than I said to the others," said Question. "He's just... thoughtful, I suppose."

She glared at him. "I know that tone, buster."

His expression was blank, of course, but he managed to give of an air of complete innocence when he said, "What tone?"

"I told you that you can plan all you want," she said. "But I've still got three weeks to go on our honeymoon, and you promised."

"Sorry, Helena," he said.

She tried to hold on to her glare, but he was just so cute. "Oh, I guess I'll forgive you," she said with a sigh. Then she smirked and leaned close to his ear. "But only if you make it up to me."


End file.
